


Soulmate AU Drabbles

by Aluxra



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 10:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11645187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aluxra/pseuds/Aluxra
Summary: Snippets from my Soulmate AU foundhere





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter One takes place after the brother’s confrontation, before Genji reveals to Jesse that he is, in fact, his second soulmate. Originally posted on tumblr [here](http://aluxra.tumblr.com/post/157453037812/chances)

Genji’s heart sank when he turned the corner and saw the pale yellow light from the kitchen illuminating the narrow section of the hallway. He had deliberately waited till the hours after midnight before leaving his room, banking on the chance that he might avoid anyone who might still be awake at something-past-two in the morning who would be holed up in a lab or medical suite or the gym or the simulation arena. Evidently, his luck had run dry these past few days.

Sighing, he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and slouched forward, figuring he’d peek inside to see who was there before deciding whether to return to his room or brave the staring for a few minutes. Hovering at the edge of the light spilling into the hallway, he peered around the doorframe, scanning the room before his gaze settled on Jack sitting at the island counter, dressed in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, his tactical gear and trademark jacket nowhere in sight. He appeared to be absorbed with flicking through files on his datapad, but Genji knew better. The old man had a lifetime of paranoia and distrust behind him, it was second nature to him: he more than likely already knew Genji was there.

On cue, he raised his eyes from the datapad straight to Genji, and he nodded at him in acknowledgement. Then he returned to his datapad, taking a sip from the drink by his side as Genji stepped into the kitchen fully, approaching the fridge. Jack’s eyes never left the screen in front of him, and Genji frowned, watching him suspiciously as he pulled out a water bottle from the bottom drawer and took a swig, snapping the cap shut.

Jack looked up when Genji pulled up a stool opposite him and sat down, watching him.

‘Can’t sleep?’ he asked, taking another drink and returning to his datapad.

‘It’s… been a long day,’ Genji replied. Jack raised his eyebrows, nodding.

‘I hear that,’ he said. Genji snorted under his breath, burying his hands in his hoodie pocket and slouching in his seat.

‘I imagine everyone has heard the same thing, today,’ he said sourly.

‘Yep.’ Jack glanced up, and smiled wryly at Genji’s glare in the face of his blunt honesty. He shrugged. ‘What? You want me to lie? Pretend nothing happened today when two dragons almost wrecked the archery range?’

He eyed the bruises and swelling around his eye and split lip, and sighed, locking his datapad and setting it to the side. He folded his arms on the counter, leaning forward on them. ‘That’s one hell of a shiner you got there, kid. You alright?’

‘It’s nothing,’ Genji replied, pulling his hoodie further down his face. ‘Hanzo pulled his punches.’

‘Did you?’

‘The last time I did that, I ended up a cyborg,’ Genji said, looking pointedly at Jack. ‘As much as I love my brother and have forgiven him, I won’t make that mistake twice.’

There was a beat of silence between them, before Jack sighed, his shoulders sagging. He rubbed his eyes, dragging his hand over his head and down his neck.

‘I’m sorry, Genji, we should’ve-’

‘Don’t,’ Genji interrupted him sharply. ‘Whether it’s about the name or the cybernetics, neither can be changed now; and I know you wouldn’t have looked for it anyway. Overwatch was investigating the Shimada for years, I have no doubt that the information you have for me goes beyond my files as an active agent: the unruly, irresponsible playboy of the Shimada, who fucks anyone regardless if they found their soulmate or not. I wonder how many notches on my bedpost are undercover Overwatch or Blackwatch agents looking for information? Who all would have brought back the same juicy gossip: Shimada’s little brother is defective. He has no soulmate.’

‘Except that’s a lie,’ Jack said, meeting Genji’s stare levelly.

Genji dropped his gaze first, looking at the counter.

‘Did you know, that in Japan, and a few other neighbouring countries, if two people are born with the same name on their wrists, it is considered ill fortune? Especially if they are siblings.’

‘What’s the superstition if the person whose name they share happens to have both their names, too?’ Jack countered.

Genji scowled at the counter.

‘Hanzo wants me to tell him.’

‘Are you going to?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t want to,’ Genji said, sounding petulant to his own ears. ‘I should never have said it in the first place. I should have stood my ground instead of just giving in like that. I should have been  _better_ than that.’

They lapsed into silence again, both staring at their drinks. Jack sighed, scratching his jaw.

‘I don’t want to hurt Jesse,’ Genji said quietly, his eyes beginning to burn as his vision blurred. ‘I should never have said it.’

He rubbed his eyes quickly with the heel of his hands, clearing his throat and taking a breath. He looked up to see Jack staring at him with an unreadable expression, save for the deep sadness in his bright blue eyes. Jack looked away, swirling his drink in his mug.

‘You think I should tell him,’ Genji said.

‘Genji, I am the  _last_ person on earth who has any right to an opinion on what others should do regarding soulmates,’ Jack said bitterly. ‘I can’t tell you what to do or what not to do. I could harp on like the next person about how many people never get the chance to be with their soulmate, much less get a second chance with them, but at the end of the day, you have to decide what you’ll do, and whether or not you’re willing to hurt him.’

‘It would be better if everyone just went back to the way things were,’ Genji said, slumping forward and burying his face in his hands, his elbows propped up on the counter. ‘It would be better that he never find out.’

‘You think so?’

‘It worked just fine before,’ Genji mumbled into his hands. ‘He’s Hanzo’s soulmate, not mine.’

There was a long, drawn out pause between them, before Jack clicked his tongue, setting his drink down.

‘What was the last total sum of winnings for the bet everyone had?’ he suddenly asked.

Genji glanced up, his brows knitting together despite the sting from the cut over one eyebrow. ‘What?’

Jack smiled ruefully. ‘The bet about me and Gabriel. The one that every agent, Overwatch or Blackwatch, had a stake in. What was the last recorded sum?’

Genji thinned his lips, embarrassed. ‘Ah, uh… I think it was perhaps three and a half, maybe four grand in American dollars.’

‘Heh, no kidding?’ Jack asked, raising his eyebrows. He shook his head, glancing up at Genji. ‘What did you put money on?’

‘I, well, I thought that perhaps… the rumours were, well, were just rumours,’ Genji said, dropping his hands from his face and folding his arms on the counter. ‘I mean, you were both in such high positions of power, people would know. You wouldn’t be able to keep something like that secret.’

‘Hmm,’ Jack hummed. He raised his left wrist, and pulled off the seal to the wrappings around it. Unravelling the soulmark protector, he dropped it to the counter and stretched his arm across the space between them, presenting the inside of his wrist to Genji. Gabriel Reyes’ big, bold signature glared up at him, a sharp contrast to the pale skin it marked, dark and slanting forward as if it couldn’t wait to be signed, the “I” dotted so high it looked like a beauty mark instead of part of the name, the tail of the “Y” skimming the heel of Jack’s palm.

Genji still stared at it as Jack withdrew his arm, wrapping it back up with the soulmark protector. He crossed his arms, staring at Genji expectantly, waiting.

‘I owe Jesse money,’ he said finally, before he winced, realising how stupid and insensitive it sounded. ‘Sorry, I -’

‘No, it’s fine, Genji,’ Jack said, shrugging. ‘I know everyone had an opinion one way or another, they all had theories, assumptions, speculations… It was no secret that Gabe and I were involved with each other, so, someone had to be right.’

‘Did he know?’ Genji asked quietly. ‘Did you ever tell each other?’

‘I told him every night,’ Jack said, looking down at his folded arms.

Genji smiled, bittersweet and sad.

‘Just not when it mattered.’

Genji looked at him, his smile falling into a confused frown. Jack swallowed. He opened his mouth to speak and couldn’t, swallowed again and cleared his throat.

‘I met him when we were chosen for the SEP: I was twenty-one, I think, at the time, and one of the youngest of the recruits,’ he began. ‘He was nearly thirty and, like everyone else, noticed the young blood. Everyone was talking shit, typical hot-head alpha male posturing, but Reyes and I… I didn’t even know his damn name and we were still drawn to each other, pushing each other’s buttons, joking, teasing, usual shit.’

‘When we realised who the other was… it became a game, a challenge,’ he explained. ‘A stupid unspoken bet between us: “I won’t say it if you won’t”, “I won’t make a move until you make a move”, “I won’t break till you break”.’

Jack shook his head. ‘Everyone knew. We hadn’t been subtle during that first meeting. Everyone knew something was going on, and the only thing that could be going on between two people who had just met had to be because they were soulmates. But, neither of us would willingly admit it, even when we finally started sleeping together.’

‘I think the closest we came to it was when we traded dog tags,’ he reminisced. ‘I can’t remember who said it, something about the dog tags not being so different to how we usually wear our names. We could’ve said it, then, but… it didn’t feel like a game anymore. It felt like something only we had, some kind of unspoken…  _thing_ … that couldn’t be touched by the outside world. At the time, it felt right. It felt perfect, in fact.’

Jack paused, taking a shaky breath. He dragged a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘Then… well, everyone knows what happened then. The fighting, the suspicion, the doubts, before everything came crashing down around us and we are where we are today.’

He rested his head on his hand, staring off into the distance beyond the kitchen. ‘Thirty years worth of chances, and I didn’t take a single one. So instead, every night when I close my eyes, I tell him. Sometimes I tell him the moment I find out his name when we first meet, sometimes I say it that first night we spend together, or when we trade our dog tags. Sometimes I tell him on New Year’s Eve when the clock strikes twelve, or on the birthdays we spent together.’

He swallowed thickly, and shook his head. ‘Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything, since he already knew. Why would it matter that it was never said aloud? “You’re my soulmate”. What’s the difference three words can make? It wouldn’t be more than a technicality since we were already together.’

‘But, I still never said them,’ he said. He looked down at his wrist. ‘My mark is still black: I still have a chance to change that. But you know, even if I get him back tomorrow, and it goes back to the way things were, and I am lucky enough to get another thirty years with him?’

He shook his head, thinning his lips. ‘It’ll never be enough time. It’ll never be enough to make up for all those years of stupid, bullheaded, stubborn pride. All those years, all because we treated it like a game.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’ Genji whispered, warm, wet tracks spilling down his cheeks, the taste of saline on his lips.

‘Because sometimes doing things like the way you did before  _doesn’t_ work,’ Jack replied, meeting his eyes. ‘Sometimes not saying anything  _isn’t_ for the better.’

They said nothing after that, falling into a long silence. Genji sniffled, wiping his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve, and Jack downed the last of his drink with a sigh. Sliding out of his seat, he rinsed the mug and set it on the side to dry, wiping his hands on his sweats and retrieving his datapad from the island counter.

‘I can’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t do,’ he said quietly, walking around the island. ‘I can’t tell you what’s definitely going to happen one way or the other. I  _can_ tell you, that you’re looking at the potential result of one of those choices. I never told Gabe he was my soulmate, regardless if he knew or not, and I have to live with that. You have to decide if you’re willing to do the same, if it’s worth the risk of becoming like me.’

Genji looked up at him, the lines on his face appearing deeper under the fluorescent lights, the scars on his face shiny and white at the edges. Tired blue eyes met his for a second, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of thin, scarred lips.

‘Goodnight, Genji,’ Jack said, clapping his on the shoulder and heading for the entrance without looking back. Genji watched him leave until he rounded the corner and disappeared down the hallway, leaving Genji alone, the hum of the fluorescent lights the only sound in the silence. Huffing a sigh, Genji rubbed his head and hopped off the stool, grabbing his water bottle and following Jack’s lead, snapping off the kitchen light on his way back to his room. A heavy weight settled in his stomach, nausea rising up his throat with the taste of bile close behind. He swallowed around the solid lump in his throat, chewing on the bottle cap. Tomorrow was going to be another long day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after McCree finds out Genji is his soulmate and they're trying to figure out how to make it work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on tumblr [here](http://aluxra.tumblr.com/post/157838002987/drunk)

The evening had long turned to night by the time Genji and McCree stumbled back to the Watchpoint from their night out in the bars around town. Forgoing their usual attire for jeans and shirts to blend in better, Genji had even braved stripping himself of his visor, revealing shocking green hair and handsome hazel brown eyes.

The night had been long overdue, reminiscent of their Blackwatch days when the agents regularly attempted to overload the nanotechnology in Genji’s system and get him drunk. They always failed, even with the earlier designs of his systems, but McCree still made a valiant attempt.

‘Dammit, you’re not nearly drunk enough to be turnin’ in for the night,’ McCree slurred. He leaned heavily on Genji as they weaved down the empty corridors, hanging off each other for stability as the ground tipped and tilted beneath their feet. The potent smell of alcohol and tobacco clung to him, coupled not unpleasantly with sweat, the nights still warm in the long stretch of summer.

‘Perhaps,’ Genji agreed, keeping one arm wrapped tight around McCree’s back, clutching a fistful of his plaid shirt to keep him from straying. His other hand linked fingers with McCree’s prosthesis as McCree hugged him around his shoulders. ‘You however, are inebriated enough for the both of us.’

‘What? Me?’ McCree objected, hand over his heart in mock affront. ‘Darlin’, I’m as sober as a preacher on a Sunday!’

‘Jesse, you walk two steps and you’ll tip over,’ Genji replied with a laugh. He swayed under McCree’s weight before he righted himself, shifting his grip around McCree. While the nanotechnology allowed his body to process toxins at a rate beyond the average human, it still softened the edge, his whole body humming pleasantly. Heat suffused through him, aided by McCree’s warmth seeping through their shirts down the length of his side.

‘Ooh, wanna bet on that, partner? I’ll show you,’ McCree challenged with a wide grin, his eyes twinkling mischievously. ‘You just watch.’

He pulled his arm away from Genji’s shoulders, righting his hat as he strode forward, Genji still holding onto the back of his shirt.

‘Jesse! Don’t -’

He instinctively yanked on the shirt, jolting McCree back. McCree veered to the side, his hand slamming against the wall as he stumbled, dragging Genji with him. Genji yelped, tripping over McCree’s feet, falling into his chest and sent them crashing against the wall, half slumped down it in a tangle of limbs.

Surprised laughter bubbled in his throat, and he bit down on his knuckles to stifle it as he tried to disentangle them from each other. McCree had no such inhibitions, his chest rumbling with laughter as he braced himself against the wall with one hand, the other resting on Genji’s side.

‘Whoops!’ McCree said, low and breathless, a grin stretching from ear to ear, his face flushed a warm, rosy crimson high in the apples of his cheeks. ‘Guess you won that bet, Genji.’

Genji snorted a laugh, shaking his head. He slipped his hands around McCree’s sides, trying to guide him back to his feet when McCree’s other hand came up and caressed the smooth curve of Genji’s torso, his hands sliding down to rest on Genji’s narrow hips.

Genji stilled. His gaze flicked up, meeting McCree’s rich, dark brown eyes, smouldering under the shadow of his hat.

He instantly became hyperaware of how close they stood: McCree radiated heat that Genji could feel down the stretch of his torso, their thin shirts the only barrier between their bodies. He drew his hands back, bracing against the broad expanse of McCree’s chest to push him away, his fingertips smoothing over the solid wall of muscle beneath them. He swallowed, shifting his weight, and McCree’s fingers flexed on his hips, straightening to his full height.

Genji’s face began to burn, his synthetic skin thankfully hiding the blush that would alert McCree of his reaction. He glanced away from McCree’s molten gaze, inadvertently distracted by his lips, plump and red and curled into a small smile. The alarming heat intensified, spreading down his neck and across his shoulders. His mouth felt dry and fuzzy, much like his head, feeling suddenly far more drunker than he had been moments ago.

‘Hey there, Genji,’ McCree murmured, his warm breath tickling Genji’s cheek as he leaned in close, the tips of their noses brushing against each other lightly.

‘Mmm,’ Genji replied, unable to think of anything clever to say. ‘Hey there, yourself.’

‘You know,’ McCree said. ‘I don’t think I ever told you, just how good you look in jeans.’

He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops for emphasis, purposefully dragging Genji closer till their hips brushed, the scratch of denim far too loud to Genji’s ears in the empty corridor.

‘Jesse,’ he whispered. He licked his dry lips, his heart hammering against his ribs.

‘Genji,’ McCree replied. He lifted his hand, cupping Genji’s jaw gently and tilting his head back, his thumb gliding across the scars tiger-striping Genji’s cheek, trailing down to the soft curve of his upper lip to follow the line of his cupid’s bow. Genji’s lips parted, his breath ghosting over the pad of Jesse’s thumb. He swallowed and cleared his throat, opened his mouth to speak to stop before they did something foolish, a last ditch attempt to be the voice of reason. He glanced up, his eyes meeting McCree’s once again, hazel gold to smokey wood, dark and half lidded, and the words hesitated on his tongue.

He hesitated a second too late, and the words were stolen from him as McCree captured his lips with his own, taking the breath from his lungs as well. He froze, the world stilling, before McCree’s lips glided over his, soft and warm, offset by the sharp, scratchy bristles of his beard and Genji melted against him. His eyes slid shut as the hot, bitter tang of cigar smoke and the sharp bite of bourbon settled on his tongue. He tightened his hold on McCree’s shirt and drew him closer, demanding more as McCree wrapped his arms around Genji’s waist and pulled him flush against his body, his fingers finding the hem of Genji’s shirt and slipping underneath. The hard, cold fingertips of his prosthesis danced over the curves and dips of Genji’s back, travelling along the latticework of scar tissue; his free hand hooked a thumb over the waistband of his jeans and boxer shorts, his nail scratching over Genji’s skin. He nipped teasingly at Genji’s bottom lip twice, sharp and quick, before capturing it between his own, drawing forth a small, shuddering gasp from Genji’s throat.

Genji shivered, slanting their lips together, messy and wet and demanding. He gripped the shirt in his fists, ready to rip it open and feel McCree’s hot, bare skin under his fingertips. He wanted to bury his hands in the thick dark hair on his chest, drag them down over his abdomen, imagined finding the button on his jeans and–

The door to his left opened, and Genji jerked back, shoving McCree away. McCree slammed into the wall, his head connecting with it with a dull thud, a choked gasp stealing the breath from his lungs with a heavy, winded  _oomph_!

Genji flinched, frozen where he stood, glancing between Hanzo in the doorway, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and McCree, who could barely stand, doubled over with his elbows resting on his knees.

‘Ouch…’ he wheezed.

‘Jesse? Are you alright?’ Hanzo asked around a yawn, his brows knitted in concern. He stepped out of the room, reaching for McCree. McCree raised his hand, holding up a finger to indicate he needed a moment. Down his wrist, dark black characters in a neat printed line, like a tattoo, spelt the kanji for Hanzo’s name. Genji tasted bile, his throat closing up around a solid lump that suddenly formed there. He looked away, his fingers closing around his wrist, the fingers scratching the surface.

‘Gimme a sec, darlin’,’ McCree huffed. ‘Just one sec.’

He slowly drew himself up, bracing himself against the wall at his back. He huffed, breathless, wiping his cherry red face with the back of one hand, cocking a smile at Genji. ‘Damn, forgot how easy you could throw me.’

‘I am so sorry, McCree,’ Genji replied, looking away guiltily. McCree shook his head, waving off his apology.

‘It’s fine, sugar. It’s fine.’

‘Perhaps you should sit down,’ Hanzo suggested. He stepped in close to McCree, a stabilising hand resting on his shoulder. McCree reached up, enveloping Hanzo’s hand in his own and squeezing. Genji looked away, down at his feet, trying to think how best to excuse himself. His fingers scraped against his wrist again, quick and insistent.

He glanced up as McCree stood, wavering on his feet. He wobbled, unsteady, the colour draining from his face to a ghastly grey pallor.

‘Jesse-?’ Hanzo began, his mouth pinching at the concern.

‘Hnnn…  _Nope_.’ McCree lurched forward, barrelling past Hanzo into his room. The slam of a door and the telltale gut wrenching heaves of someone losing their stomach contents quickly followed. Hanzo exhaled tiredly, his shoulders slumping, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his eyes. Genji squeezed his eyes shut, scratching harder at his wrist guiltily.

‘I-’

‘Come on,’ Hanzo said, dropping his hand away and nodding to the room. Genji stared at him, blinking. His brow creased into a confused frown, and he shook his head.

‘Genji, don’t be ridiculous, you can’t stand out here, come on,’ Hanzo repeated, beckoning Genji closer.

‘No. I - I think it would be best if I return to my own room. I’m sorry,’ he said weakly, fighting against the building nausea and dizziness creeping up on him. He swallowed, his breath catching in his throat in a hiccup. He coughed, his breath hitching again, a sudden chill spreading across his skin, making his whole body shiver.

 _Idiot_. He should’ve known better. He should’ve stopped himself, or he should’ve stopped McCree. He should’ve said something, instead of being so selfish. He had overstepped his boundaries, and he couldn’t even blame the alcohol. He wasn’t even that drunk. He was just selfish and stupid. How could he be so selfish –

‘Genji? Genji!’

A hand wrapped around his wrist, halting his incessant scratching, another gripping his arm, steadying him as he felt himself swaying. He hung his head, his eyes watering as he curled in on himself and he tried to pull away, his feet getting twisted. He stumbled, the floor rising up in front of him before he was pulled back to his feet, steadied by two hands on his shoulders. Hanzo ducked into Genji’s line of sight, his face pinched in worry.

‘Genji? Are you alright?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Genji blurted out. He closed his eyes, didn’t want to see the conflicted expression on Hanzo’s face.

‘For what? Genji-’

‘I feel sick,’ Genji interrupted. His head reeled, pain throbbing at the temples, nausea settling in his stomach like an iron weight; his eyes burned, the acidic taste of bile and alcohol choking at the back of his throat. He sucked in a breath between his teeth, and lurched forward, dragged into the room by Hanzo and manhandled onto the bed, his head pushed between his knees and a wastebasket shoved between his feet.

‘If you’re going to throw up, try to keep it in one place,’ Hanzo ordered.

‘And don’t scratch your wrist,’ he added over his shoulder, closing the bedroom door and returning to the bathroom. The low murmur of voices followed, too low for Genji to hear, before the rush of water muffled them further. He dragged his hands through his hair in frustration, the tips of his fingers digging into his scalp as he stared at the bottom of the wastebasket without really seeing the cigarillo stubs and balled up paper scraps littering it.

A glass of water appeared in front of his face, and he looked up at Hanzo, standing in front of him. Hanzo raised the glass a little, encouraging Genji to take it. Genji accepted it with a sigh, taking a small sip before he lowered it to his knee. He rubbed his forehead with his free hand, feeling the bed dip beside him as he sat down.

A hand pressed against his back, rubbing gentle, soothing circles between his shoulderblades. Genji was struck with a sudden, heavy sense of déjà vu: it was if they were back in Hanamura, after Genji stumbled home after a night partying, where Hanzo would be waiting to look after him, instead of retiring to bed after his work was complete.

‘I am sorry, Hanzo,’ he said, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut, rubbing them furiously.

‘For what?’ he repeated.

‘For kissing Jesse,’ he replied. ‘I don’t know what happened. I just… we…’

‘Genji,’ Hanzo said softly. He looked away, a frown tugging at his lips. He sighed, shaking his head. ‘Genji, he’s your soulmate, too.’

Genji sniffed, dropping his hand from his face to his opposite wrist. Hanzo’s eyes followed it, watching if Genji was going to start scratching again.

‘I can’t do any damage to the cybernetics,’ Genji said suddenly, looking out the corner of his eye at Hanzo. The hand on his back stilled. ‘My arms are nothing but wire and metal below the elbow. I can’t cause damage to it if I scratch.’

Hanzo said nothing, an unreadable expression on his face, and looked away. His hand remained between Genji’s shoulderblades, unmoving, and they sat in silence until the hiss of the shower drew their attention, and Hanzo huffed a laugh under his breath, rubbing his eyes.

‘Foolish cowboy,’ he sighed. ‘He’ll end up drowning himself.’

Genji said nothing, taking a sip of the water instead.

‘Did you… have a nice evening?’ Hanzo asked, scratching the back of his neck. Genji glanced at him, but Hanzo did not meet his eye.

‘Yes,’ Genji replied, looking away, feeling the burn return to his cheeks. ‘It was nice.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘Hmm.’

Genji took another sip of water, and they fell into silence again, looking anywhere but each other.

‘I was surprised to see you,’ Hanzo said. ‘That is all. I had thought that perhaps, you both would have gone back to your room, for the night.’

‘Jesse is drunk. I thought it best to let him sleep in his own room. I didn’t think… I don’t know why I thought you wouldn’t be here,’ Genji said, shaking his head.

‘Oh.’

The shower rattled off, and McCree shuffled around the bathroom before the door hissed open. He ambled out with a towel wrapped around his waist, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead. His face had returned to a more healthy shade, his eyes less bloodshot. He caught sight of Hanzo and Genji sitting on the edge of the bed staring at him, and cracked a smile.

‘Hey, it’s my two favourite people,’ he said, a slight slur at the edge of his words, padding over to them. Hanzo stood up sharply, holding out his hands in front of him to stop McCree in his tracks.

‘Don’t you dare come near this bed while you’re still wet,’ he warned. ‘I refuse to sleep on damp covers.’

‘Aw, come on, darlin’, I’m tired,’ McCree whined, yawning for emphasis. ‘I’m not that wet.’

‘So dry quickly,’ Hanzo replied, pushing him back towards the bathroom as McCree grumbled and whined. Genji took the opportunity to set his glass on the floor and stand, clearing his throat.

‘I should head off, and let you two sleep,’ he said, pointing to the door. Hanzo and McCree paused, looking over their shoulders at him.

‘You’re not staying the night?’ McCree asked, his face falling.

‘Ah, no. I don’t think it would be a good idea,’ Genji replied, nodding to the bed. ‘Besides, the bed is too small.’

‘We can squeeze,’ McCree said.

‘Jesse…’

‘Stay,’ Hanzo said. Both sets of eyes turned to look at him in surprise, and he shrugged. ‘You’re not feeling well and do not look it either. I would like to be able to keep an eye on the both of you until morning at least. This is the easiest way to do so.’

‘Hanzo,’ Genji began, rubbing his wrist.

‘You sure?’ McCree asked.

Hanzo shrugged again. ‘We used to share a bed when we were younger all the time: I cannot remember a week that did not go by until I was almost thirteen that Genji did not appear in my room in the middle of the night after having a nightmare.’

‘I have not had a nightmare in years, brother,’ Genji said, releasing his wrist when Hanzo’s gaze fell to it.

‘That is surprising,’ Hanzo said disbelievingly, shoving McCree towards the bathroom again.

‘Dry. Get changed. Come to bed and get some sleep,’ he listed. ‘Genji, let me find you a pair of pyjamas or something to wear.’

He rummaged in the drawers, opening and closing them, rifling through the haphazard array of clothing stuffed in them. Genji sat back down on the bed, watching him.

‘This isn’t going to work,’ he said suddenly.

‘It’s only for one night,’ Hanzo replied without missing a beat. Genji opened his mouth to correct him, when Hanzo continued. ‘And, you’re looking for a reason to give up: I should have made my own stipulation that you give it at least six months, or a year, instead of till the first date night you arranged with Jesse. Here.’

Genji’s mouth snapped shut, and Hanzo held out a pair of pyjama trousers for Genji. He turned away again, poking his head around the bathroom door and tossing another pair to McCree. He changed in silence until McCree returned from the bathroom, scrubbing a towel through his hair. He tossed it cheekily at Hanzo, who grabbed it from the air and threw it into the laundry bag, before taking Mccree’s hand and leading him to bed.

‘So, uh, how are we gonna do this, darlin’,?’ McCree asked, snapping off the lights and grabbing Genji’s hand as he passed him, pulling him along.

‘You sleep in the middle,’ Hanzo replied, pausing at the edge of the bed and dropping his hand, turning to look at them both. ‘Although, if you throw up on me during the night you will sleep on the floor.’

‘No chance of that happening, sweetheart, don’t you worry,’ McCree promised. He looked over his shoulder at Genji. ‘Hey, Genji, do you want the wall side or the window side?’

‘You can sleep closest to the wall,’ Hanzo said decisively. ‘I prefer being closer to the window, anyway.’

‘Alright,’ Genji agreed, defeated, and they all climbed into bed one by one, McCree settling between them: Hanzo closest to the window, Genji closest to the wall. Without speaking, McCree wrapped his arms around Genji’s waist, maneuvering him onto his side, his chin sitting on the crown of Genji’s head. Hanzo slid his arms around McCree’s ribs, resting his hand on his sternum and pressing his forehead against the nape of McCree’s neck. It was a squeeze, the quilt barely wide enough to cover all three of them, but it was cosy, and manageable, provided no-one rolled over suddenly.

‘Perhaps we should consider sleeping arrangements in future,’ Hanzo suggested sleepily, stifling a yawn.

‘Honey, I’d be happy with a big ol’ sleepover like this all the time,’ McCree said. Hanzo mumbled something unintelligible against his neck, making McCree chuckle.

Genji said nothing, his hands resting over McCree’s prosthetic arm, his fingers idly rubbing where his name had once been. McCree shifted, threading his fingers through Genji’s and squeezing gently, stopping his movements. Genji squeezed back, lulled by his warmth as his eyes closed, and he drifted to sleep in McCree’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://aluxra.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://aluxra.tumblr.com)


End file.
